


Tick

by Microdigitalwaker



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: College, Friendship, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Microdigitalwaker/pseuds/Microdigitalwaker
Summary: Nathan returns from a picnic with an uninvited guest but don't worry - Harold has a plan.
Relationships: Harold Finch/Nathan Ingram
Comments: 16
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

July. Their dorm room doesn't have air conditioning but Nathan brings home two box fans, which Harold places in the two windows, one facing in and one facing out.

"Cross ventilation," he says smugly, watching unabashedly as Nathan wipes his face with the hem of his AC/DC t-shirt, exposing his taut, golden belly. Nathan buttons his best pair of cut off jeans shorts and slips on his Addidas.

"Got a big date?"

Nathan grins, making an hourglass gesture. "Jessica from Accounting class. Gonna have a little picnic. Her folks own a big farm out in the boondocks. They're horse people."

Biting his tongue, Harold refrains from remarking that he's not surprised, given the otherwise lovely Jessica has a long face and buck teeth an army of orthodontists couldn't tame.

Harold stands, tugging off his t-shirt to expose his chest, his sweat-dappled chest to it's best advantage. "Have fun!"

*

In the heat of the afternoon, Harold strips further, kicking off his jeans so that all that remains are his boxers. Putting down his notebook, he flops onto his bed, justifying his break from work because it is just too hot. He takes a moment to scratch his balls and gives his limp dick a tentative stroke or two before giving up. "Maybe later," he tells himself as he curls on his left side and falls asleep.

*

Harold stirs when the door opens and shuts and blinking away the sleep, he catches a glimpse of Nathan's gorgeous ass as he heads to the showers, towel in hand. He doesn't expect the panic a few minutes later as a dripping Nathan shouts in his ear.

"I gotta tick! I gotta a tick on my nutsack! For the love of God, Harry, I need you!"


	2. Chapter 2

Harold fumbles for his glasses.

"Please, Harry?" whimpers Nathan, standing bowlegged, his towel slipping to the floor. 

Despite his sleepy confusion, Harold judges instantly that a firm hand is needed. He slides to the end of the bed, patting the mattress. 

"Lie down, ass in the air. And spread 'em." Annoyed that his sleep was interrupted, he gives Nathan's flank a prissy little slap to hurry him. Harold's mood improves at the sight of his dearest friend, so toned and gorgeous, spread out like a delectable buffet. A whimpering, whining, bottom lip quivering buffet. 

"How?" Harold asks, adjusting his tensor lamp to illuminate Nathan's gorgeous globes. 

"It was a picnic, Harry," Nathan replies, as if this is enough of an explanation. 

It isn't. 

"Ok, ok, we had our picnic and it was such a nice day that she and I took off our clothes and..." 

"Enough," hurries Harold. He's heard enough of Nathan's amorous exploits outside of their own. He swears he isn't jealous of the girls Nathan dates. "Hold still, it's probably just a burr or..." 

There, attached firmly to Nathan's sack, is a large, blood engorged member of the genus _Ricketsia_. 

"That's a tick, alright."


	3. Chapter 3

Thumbing his meager first aid kit open, it occurs to Harold that this is a prime opportunity to pay Nathan back for some of the teasing he's endured from the tall, affable Texan but Harold notices the trembling as he pats his friends back and can hear him sniffling into the pillow. Now isn't the time to tease but the time to be gather the reins and take charge.

"Fire."

Nathan looks up. His eyes are red rimmed and wet. "Huh?"

"I've heard you can burn a tick off. See, the trick is getting it off without it leaving its head..."

"You are not torching my balls!"

Harold thinks. "Ok, we could smother it, maybe coat it with a blob of petroleum jelly."

"I know you got plenty of that," replies Nathan, whose attempt at snickering devolves into a sort of damp hiccup.

"I do," Harold admits. "Thanks to those student nurses you date for their stashes of KY Jelly."

"It's easier on the ass," agrees Nathan, untroubled. As the partner more interested in bottoming, he has a vested Interest.

Harold carefully plops a thick glob of petroleum jelly over the tick, careful not to touch. "And now we wait."

(fifteen minutes later)

"...so people could just login and search about whatever problem they're having? From ticks to table settings?"

Harold nods. "Using mobile devices that you and I are going to invest. Using search engines we are going to develop and people will be able to ask their friends and family, too. There will be sites just for socializing..."

"Social media. We'll call it social media and boy howdee we'll rake in the cash," Nathan says happily, forgetting for the moment about the parasite on his undercarriage.

Harold hates it but it's time. "Lift up for me, please."

The tick is still attached and moreover still alive if Harold is the judge.

"If only we had a pair of tweezers," he says, making mental note to add a pair to his first aid kit, for splinters and whatnot. 

Nathan coughs.

"Really? Why?" asks Harold with genuine curiosity.

Nathan twists around to face him. "You think my eyebrows are this perfect naturally?"

"Oh, Nathan."

"Top drawer. Under my socks."


End file.
